Please beware this story is a fanfiction Rated M, containing mature and explicit sexual content, violence (in my head this is Quintin Tarantino level violent and I will try to write it that violent) and crude language. Read at your own discretion.

This story is a figment of my imaginations, and nothing but the story and the OC belong to me, obviously.

I know, I have re-written this, again. But this time I have actually completed the story, which I will upload each week. Please do not forget to leave me comments and thoughts - they are my motivation to keep writing. I already have ideas for sequels, but I will not post them if I don't get the encouragement. So once again, give me compliments (or criticism, because they do help believe it or not)

Two years had gone by since Obi-Wan Kenobi had exiled himself on the desolate desert planet of Tatooine. Since then, the balance of the Universe had completely severed, with nothing but Darkness growing each passing day. Hiding away in the unwanted corner of the Galaxy, Obi-Wan watched as Luke, his fallen apprentices' son, grew up. Unable to train him, Obi-Wan was beginning to lose all purpose of his existence.

Meanwhile, Tatooine was facing one of the worst droughts in their history. People were dying, animals were dying… the planet was drying up from the inside. Surrounded by nothing but death, something strange happened one mundane day. During his night in town, he felt an unusual presence in the Force. Following the hooded figure, Obi-Wan soon discovered that the injured girl he had rescued was someone he knew, knew far too well.

Orillia Kendo was a young, powerful and ferocious Jedi Knight. Moreover, she was an unnatural enigma in the Force, much like her childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker. Neck to neck with power and success all their lives, Orillia and Anakin always remained misunderstood by their peers, and the Jedi Council. For a moment, Obi-Wan's hope for the future was restored. Yet, he soon discovers that his friend was far more damaged than he was, and had decided to sever her connection from the Force.

Orillia spent her years hiding from the Empire. Her days since the Purge has been nothing but emptiness, and the Force has brought her nothing but pain, sorrow and loss. Fearing that she may lose herself to the Dark Side completely, Orillia took unorthodox measures to detach herself from the Force. When on Tatooine, she only to find even more suffering. She decided to take matters on her own hands and take on Jabba's syndicate from the inside, but unfortunately got caught and almost escaped with her life.

When Obi-Wan Kenobi found her, she was overwhelmed with the knowledge that her friend, and a Jedi had managed to survive the horrors. Unfortunately, even the Great Obi-Wan Kenobi was beginning to lose his way. As the two remaining survivors of the Jedi Order battle the criminals of the planet they dwelled on, they also attempted to rediscover themselves and their purpose.

While helping Orillia find the Light once again and reestablish her much-needed connection to the Force, Obi-Wan cannot help but create a growing attachment with her, only complicating matters more. Can Obi-Wan help restore the reminiscing Jedi Order, or will Orillia's unpredictable nature and his questioning of the Jedi Code only make matters worse?

The air was denser than any nights he's spent here for the past two years. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the crumbling ceiling of his desolate hut with his icy, vacant eyes. It felt as if his body was set on fire, so he winced and rolled around his cramped cot, trying to get more comfortable. How was it ever possible for anyone to get any rest in this hellish planet – after all, he didn't deserve the comfort in solitude. He let a sharp breath out his nostrils, fluttering his eyelashes. He once again set his gaze at the small window, watching the pale moon of Tatooine paint the beige landscape a glimmering silver; it almost seemed beautiful.

He closed his eyes and groaned. There was no beauty left in this galaxy anymore. The true beauty of the galaxy lay amongst the harmony of the Force, the unparalleled balance that sang. Now there was nothing but Darkness. He could feel is all around him… choking him. His existence seemed unbearable and suffocating. Never before has he felt so much pain, hatred and sorrow around him. Yet all he could do is wait…

He closed his eyes, taking the edge of his tongue and licking his cracking lips. In two years, he has managed to master the ability of keeping his mind blank – completely blank. It was the only thing keeping him sane. Even with the skill and calmness Obi-Wan had, the mountain of regrets and failures he carried would snap any man in half. He would be glad to let his sorrow eat him, slowly and painfully… pain that his fellow Jedi faced. Yet the Force chose him for a different path, a path so much more difficult than he anticipated. He was forced to just sit idly by while he watched everything he had ever loved and held dear crumble before his own eyes.

His whole life he has been trained to protect the vulnerable, yet when the moment of reckoning came, he has never felt so helpless. Two years he has been hiding away, cornering himself in the wasteland of the galaxy and waiting; what was he actually waiting for? It was evident that Owen Lars is not letting him go anywhere near his nephew, so how can he possibly train him? Master Yoda seems to think Luke is the one who may restore balance to the Force… and while it was wonderful to believe, his father too was thought to be the Chosen One.

Finally giving up on resting, Obi-Wan jumped out of his bed and ran his fingers through his thick chestnut hair. After sundown was the only time anyone on Tatoonie could step out anyways. It has been a month since the Great Drought hit. There was nothing great about this drought - The sand was drying up into concrete, hard ground as the sunbaked climate of Tatooine became hotter than usual. Cracks began to form on the surface as local animals began to perish from lack of water and unbearable heat. Bones – all there remained with the bones of eopies and banthas. Heat waves would radiate off the parched ground, releasing into the boiling atmosphere, making it more insufferable to live.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan gathered his robe and a small water container and headed for the door. There was nothing else to do but sulk, so might as well get some useful information out of the night. While Obi-Wan tried his best to distance himself from the pain that was now called the 'Empire'… he always found himself craving. Everyone always stayed away from the strange hermit that he was today, so it would give him the perfect privacy to just close his eyes and concentrate on the horrors circling around the local Cantina's.

He kept his mind alert for the stories of Darth Vader, a ferocious leader complete clad in black, ruling with an iron fist alongside his master, the Emperor. All the stories he heard, of Darth Vader, and how he rampaged villages and planets in his fight to find enemies of the Emperor… particularly Jedi. Thankfully, the hunt for the Jedi had stopped long ago, as it would seem Vader has managed to eliminate every living Jedi in less than a year. Now he and Master Yoda were the only one's remaining… the only believers of Light.

The stale air felt heavy around him, far heavier than usual. Obi-Wan crooked his brows and cautiously climbed onto his speeder. He could feel a flicker on the Force all day today, but the flicker seemed to be raging onto something bigger as the day went by. Something about the shift in the Force felt familiar… and he was not looking forward to what that may be.

Orillia looked down on her hands, carefully examining her knuckles. Raw flesh began peeking beneath her bruised purple scabs. Every bone in her body hurt. Blasters were never something she was comfortable with, but fighting without her lightsaber was beginning to take a toll on her. She can't remember being this badly injured since she was a Padawan learner.

She was so close to having her identity revealed by Jabba's men a few days ago. She cannot afford to make hasty mistakes. It might have been two years, but the bounties on Jedi's head would still earn hunters millions. She squeezed her eyes shut. The stabbing pain in her body began to burn in anguish as Orillia desperately rummaged through her hood, trying to find the reminder of her stash.

"Fuck." She cursed under her breath. She finished more than three ounces of spice in less than two days. That supply was meant to last her the whole week. Letting out a short breath, she pulled her hood down to cover her face, shaking her leg anxiously. She scanned around the Cantina carefully, but for the first time ever, not a single spice dealer was on sight. She had no choice but to drink her pain away at this point. Unfortunately for her, alcohol no longer sufficed.

"Toiderian whiskey, no rocks." She ordered, biting down on her teeth hard. Besides the blinding pain of her injuries from vigorous beatings and coming down from spice, something else had been bothering her the whole day. An unusual tug in the Force… something that had her on the edge. She watched the dark drink slowly being poured into the glass. Twiddling her fingers, she snatched the glass from the bartender and gulped down the drink, wincing as the harsh liquid burned down her throat.

Orillia panted, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling. There it was again, the tug in the Force. "Another." She ordered, trying her best to ignore it. She could ignore it all she wanted, but she knew very well what this meant – there was another Force Sensitive around her. Biting her lip nervously, she looked around cautiously, watching for anything suspicious. Inquisitors were growing in numbers recently, and if anyone knew her real identity, flocks of Inquisitors would come for her. She could not let that happen, not because Orillia was afraid for her life, but because she didn't want to live with what they would do to her.

Inquisitors were once Jedi Padawan's whose lives were spared for sickening reasons. The Emperors vision to create an army of Force Sensitive bidders has come true, and those youngingligs were morphed into nothing short of monsters. Once again she snatched the drink from the bartenders hand, gulping down the liquid in a manner of seconds.

"You need to go easy with that" The bartender laughed, shaking his head. "Toiderian whiskey doesn't bode well in humans." Orillia ignored him, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Double, please." She replied, her voice shaky. The Twi'Lek bartender stared at her strangely, but complied to her orders nonetheless. Her breathing stopped when the Force blasted through her. Clutching onto the empty glass she turned around and watched as a hooded figure entered the Cantina, avoiding everyone. They moved slowly, keeping their head low and taking seat in an empty booth in the far end. The figure hid beneath the shadow, invisible to everyone but her. They were strong with the Force, very strong… but, it was unlike the Force she felt recently… this felt, familiar, and Light. Alarmed, Orillia grabbed the drink and gulped without a break. Whoever was sitting inside the shadows was someone she knew. And everyone she knew with Force Sensitivity was out to get her.

She reached in her pockets and hastily dropped a few credits on the bar, slowly gathering her things and moving quickly through the Cantina. Underneath her hood, her eyes laid fixated on the dark corner of the Cantina where the enigmatic figure sat. She could feel them watching her… observing her. Her throat burned from the harsh liquid, making her mouth dry. Panic began to boil in her blood as she pushed people out of her way, trying to get out.

"Hey watch it!" a deep voice shouted. Orillia jolted back, realizing she had bumped into a large Zabrak. Quickly putting her hood down, she pulled her mask over her face, revealing no part of herself. "You made me spill my drink." The Zabrak chewed, slamming the glass in a fit of rage.

"Get out of my way." Orillia ordered in a low voice, waiving her hand underneath her hood. Watching the Zabrak enter her trance, he moved away robotically, staring blankly in the distance.

She continued to move through the Cantina when suddenly she got pulled by her hood, jolting her backwards. Momentarily losing control on her body, she crashed on the floor and landed on her knees. Pain invaded her body once again and she groaned under her breath. Grabbing onto her aching ribs, she looked up at the Zabrak whose drink she apparently spilled.

"You're the Anchorhead 'vigilante', aren't you?" A human male snickered behind the pale green Zabrak male. Orillia locked her strange mismatched eyes with the three of Jabba's men, circling around her like prey. "You are one, very expensive bounty, you do know that right?"

Turning around, Orillia kicked the bottom of the man standing behind her, prompting the male to reacting and throw his fist at her. Orillia ducked down and slid under a table when the punch landed on another patrons face. With that, the whole Cantina erupted into an explosive fist fight, all the drunken customers fighting each other off for no reason whatsoever.

Managing to pull herself up, she grabbed her double-ended vibro staff. Lighting the staff, she smacked one end on the Zabraks face as hard as she could, knocking him over. With the other end, she pushed it onto the humans face, watching him tumble backwards in pain. Pushing her good leg against the foot of a nearby table, she jumped over a Queeway and kicked him on the face.

She landed on her left leg, which was unfortunately already broken due to injury from two nights ago. She gulped, swallowing a scream rising in her throat and crawled her way out, making sure she wasn't being followed. Managing to pull herself up, she limped her way to the alley way across the street, knowing full well the men will catch up to her in no time.

Obi-Wan let out a vexed breath as he laid eyes upon the cluttered Cantina in the center of Mos Isley. Tatooine was a harbor for the crooked, a land of the foul… the unwanted… and the wanted. There wasn't a single savory character present here. All the fouls characters that did Jabba's bidding were present here, as well as bounty hunters that went around the galaxy. The only good things about Cantina's were the chattering gossips of loose patrons, and cheap drinks.

Right before entering the Cantina, he sensed it again – the strong blow from the Force. He stopped, checking to see if he had any weapons on him. He should turn away and go back to his isolated hut, but something told him not to. He didn't understand; it was the logical step to avoid the Cantina, but he still walked in, slowly snaking his way into the back empty booth. Amongst the crammed cantina, sat a hooded figure on the far end of the bar, chugging down a dark mahogany drink and slamming the empty glass on the sticky bar. There was something about this person that he felt drawn to. The Force around this seemed to resonate… so powerful.

Obi-Wan hasn't felt this tense in a long, long time. Who was this person? His pale blue eyes fixed on the figure, he watched as the hooded person swiftly got up and left. They seemed to be in a hurry and crashed into a tall Zabrak. Obi-Wan pushed himself closer, observing closely as the Zabrak towered over the figure. He knew how this would end – the most miniscule of altercations ended up in a bar fight. Yet, the Zabrak simply moved away, clearing the path.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully, examining the hooded figure with more caution. Whoever that was, just used Force persuasion to make the Zabrak move with such ease. Only those trained in the ways of the Force knew how to use persuasion. Clenching his fist, he watched the figure move towards the exit when the Zabrak snapped out of his trance and pulled the hooded figure down. Whoever they were, they were severely injured as they struggled to get up. But even in that battered state, they had no problem creating an immaculate distraction and fight off three men with ease.

He looked away momentarily, and just then the bar burst out into a fit, with chairs flying across the room and fists thrown. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and rolled his eyes; so uncivilized. He sat back and looked over to the bar, only to find out the hooded figure was gone. His gaze shifted towards the Cantina gateway, watching the hooded figure slither away quietly, when he stopped and turned around. Tendrils of long, dark mahogany brown hair fell through the hood as she turned, her face covered with a mask.

She stood still for a moment, watching him. Something inside Obi-Wan stirred, making him part his lips as he shivered. And within a split second, she was gone as two bounty hunters ran after her. Without thinking, Obi-Wan got up and followed suit as the bar went about its usual business or tearing the structure apart.

"What am I doing?" Obi-Wan whispered to himself, exasperated. He did his best to stay away from anyone, and everyone's business. Perhaps every now and then he should try to interfere a little, especially since everyone in Tatooine was so miserable with the drought. Then again, it was in the best interest of Luke's safety that he remained hidden, as a mere shadow.

He let the Force do its work as he walked down an alleyway, watching four shadows dance around. Peaking from the other side of the wall, Obi-Wan noticed as three men, one human, a Queeway pirate and a mammoth Zabrak attempted to capture the woman.

She was swift on her feet, gracefully dodging every shot at her way and hitting her opponent with precision. She reached under her hood and pulled out a long metallic staff, twirling it around and smacking the Queeway right across his face. The pirate fell with the thump on the hard ground, lying unconscious. She was a skilled fighter, and no mere bounty hunter. The way she was fighting almost seemed as if... no, he dare not think that.

She turned as the human pulled out an electrocute from his pocket and buzzed it against her staff, shocking her. The girl groaned in agony and fell on dropped her staff, crashing on the ground as the Zabrak punched her across the face.

The girl crashed on the ground as the human tasered her once again, passing her unconscious. Obi-Wan moved away from the shadow, watching her lifeless body sprawled across the ground. The human pulled her hood away as silk-like hair spilled out, flowing around her. "Damn, that was one feisty bitch." He said, turning his face to spit out blood.

"All we have to do now is take her to the boss, and kaboom!" The Zabrak laughed hauntingly, drawing his face closer to her. "Well, let's just slit her throat open and dump her, and take the stupid fucking necklace- wait is that a Kyber Crystal?"

The human considered for a moment, looking down at her. "Yes... oh yes it is." He said, moving over her hood to reveal her garment underneath. The human pinched the small pendant between his fingers, flashing a roguish smile. "This right here costs a fortune... what a great day indeed."

"I've never seen look like that before." The Queeway commented. "Do they usually come in different colors or what?"

"Shut up for a second will ya!" The human shouted, making the Queeway press his lips into a thin line. He scratched his chin thoughtfully, his nail scraping across her face until he pulled her mask down. "Boys, have you ever seen a woman this gorgeous in this part of the Galaxy before?"

The Zabrak shook his enoromous head, blankly looking at the girl in awe. "I don't think I've ever seen a human girl this pretty-"

"What are you thinking boss?" The Queeway asked, wiping away a line of blood from the corner of his mouth.

The human looked down at the girl and smiled. "I think I need a little privacy." He laughed.

Obi-Wan balled his fist tightly, his jaw squared. Before he knew it, he found himself marching towards the three and grab spinning around, kicking the human flat on the face. He was knocked down hard on the ground. The slow Zabrak looked up, his face already smashed from the encounter he had from the girl.

Confused, he looked up and stood as Obi-Wan reached for the staff, swinging it full blow. The Zabrak caught it with one hand, smiling wickedly. Obi-Wan simply rolled his eyes and kicked him on the knees, watching him crumbled as his bones dislocated. Obi-Wan picked up the staff once again and swung it over the Zabrak's head, knocking him unconscious. The three attackers lay unmoving on the ground.

Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan crouched down and picked the unconscious woman up. He placed her on his lap and took his speeder off, going back to his hermitage. Not even the moon was out in the sky, leaving the desolate, Tatooine landscape in complete darkness. Obi-Wan still couldn't see the girl's face, but he could tell she was young, probably in her mid-twenties. He stopped his speeder in front of his bike and carried the girl back inside the hut.

He placed her carefully on his bed, removing the robe he wrapped her in and ran to the kitchen to get wet towels and bacta patches. He pulled up a chair and turned on the light, slowly pulling her mask fully to reveal her face. He finally saw the girl's face, making his blood run cold. It couldn't be her – all other Jedi were dead. Obi-Wan lightly brushed the hair out of her face, examining if it really was her.

Orillia Kendo was a Jedi Knight, one of the most ferocious General in the Grand Republic Army, and inexplicably powerful with the Force. Kendo was certainly no traditional Jedi – but she made a name for herself as a Padawan and even more so during the Clone Wars. Obi-Wan knew Orillia especially well, she was a very close friend of Anakin's, and also a friend of his. Another thing she had in common with Anakin was her unnatural adaptability with the Force. Before Anakin was found, it was believed that Orillia was the prophesized Chosen One. His heart broke when he saw Orillia's usual unimaginable, radiant beauty disfigured with blotches of purple and blue bruises over her eye. Her bronze-brown skin ashen, her beautiful full lips cracked from dehydration. Obi-Wan clearly remembered what she looked like – she was impossible to forget. Orillia was a famous beauty amongst clones and even Jedi's alike.

Obi-Wan always found her alluring himself; but the girl was brash, reckless, and had quite a problem with her temper. He still admired her dedication, and her unorthodox battle techniques as he fought countless times alongside her. At the end of the day, she was a Jedi, someone who he respected fondly… she was a dear friend and he would do everything to make sure she would heal properly again. He was one of his own, and she was alive.

Obi-Wan reluctantly pulled her shirt up to examine the bruises on her torso. She had three broken ribs, a fractured forearm, a dislocated knee, and a fractured shin. She was more injured than he'd anticipated, and most of the injuries were old. Obi-Wan gently pressed his cold finger's on her flat stomach and focused on the Force to heal her ribs. He could feel the cracked ribs relocating in place, but she would still need at least a week to fully recover from her injuries, even with the help of the Force. He didn't have a bacta tank he could put her in, so a painfully long healing process would have to do. Orillia whimpered under his soft touch, trying to move her aching body. He stopped her by pressing his palm gently on her forehead, feeling the burning, feverish skin against him.

"Shush… Orillia… you mustn't move." Obi-Wan said gently. She slowly fluttered her eyes open, blinking as tears ran down her eyes. They were just like he remembered them, vibrant gold and speckled brown, like two mismatched jewels. She moved her head and focused on his face. Obi-Wan saw her eyes grow wider as her vision fixated on the face before her.

"Master… Master Kenobi?" She hushed in a bare whisper as more tears streaked down her face. "Am I finally dead?"